


You Think No Homo Is That Powerful???

by WinterPoet



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bottom Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Eddie is a saint, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Richie thinks he's straight, Top Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:07:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27681941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterPoet/pseuds/WinterPoet
Summary: Richie Tozier is straight, okay? He doesn’t give a shit what that fucking dumbass clown has to say, he’s straight. So what if he’s never been able to stomach a relationship with a woman for more than a few months? Plenty of guys have commitment issues. He’s built an entire career on relating to straight men who don’t like women.When Eddie divorces Myra, he moves in with Richie and soon discovers he isn't the only one with lasting childhood trauma. Basically just Eddie and Richie learning to love each other and themselves as they start a relationship.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

Richie refused to leave the hospital room where Eddie laid hooked up to all kinds of machines. The doctors had shooed the others out with stern looks and promises that his prognosis was good, but Richie just stood there numb. He couldn’t even look at the people trying to talk to him: the medical staff and Bev who’d come back when she realized there was a problem. All he could do was stare at Eddie, taking in the bruises and cuts and the blood they hadn’t quite cleaned up yet, but most of all the slow rise and fall of his chest. Somehow that steady rhythm felt like the only thing that mattered, the only thing that had ever been constant in this batshit town and Richie couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“Richie, honey?” Bev asked, pulling gently on his arm. “We’ve gotta get out of the doctor’s way, okay?” Richie recognized the tone, it’s the same one his mom used to use when she’d had to tell them it was time for Beverly to go back to her aunt’s and he relaxed enough to let himself be guided out of the room. 

He loosened up as the door closed, blocking Eddie from his view, and he let himself be maneuvered onto one of the benches. Bev curled up beside him, laying her head in his lap like she was the one who was losing it and distantly he was aware of the fact that she should be with Ben. He could feel that there was a joke to be made and he knew everyone was waiting for him to make it, knew it in the way he’d always known how to please people, but he couldn’t. There was no joke he could tell that would make Eddie wake up and the one-liner crumbled uselessly in his mouth before he could say it.

He had no idea how long he sat there. He’d started running his fingers through Beverly’s hair when his limbs remembered how to move and the way she leaned into the touch made him remember that she was terrified too. That Eddie wasn’t his alone, that everyone else was hurting, and slowly he started to come back online. He smiled slightly as he tuned into the conversation, recognizing the familiar pattern of the Losers teasing each other. 

“It’s a good thing Ben decided to become an Olympian, I don’t know how else we would have gotten Eddie out of there,” quipped Bill, making Mike snort beside him.

“You only wanted to get him out of there so you wouldn’t have to be the shortest guy in the group, Little Bill.” Richie’s voice shook as he said it, but the relief in the room was palpable. 

Slowly they all migrated together until Bill and Mike were sitting on the floor in front of the bench where Ben now sat next to Richie with Beverly sprawled over their laps. That’s how the nurse found them, raising his eyebrow at the 40 year olds tangled together like children before he’d told them that Eddie could take visitors. They tripped over each other in their rush to stand up, but they all managed to make it to Eddie's bedside and his smirk at the way they tumbled into the room together made any judgement they endured worth it. 

Eddie stayed in the hospital for a week before he was finally released. It had been 3 days ahead of schedule, but Richie suspected Eddie’s constant bitching about MRSA and all the things people catch in hospitals had something to do with it. Everyone had managed to dodge their responsibilities while Eddie had been recovering, but with his release they knew they’d finally have to return to their lives. The Losers gathered in one hotel room, knowing it would be their last night all together.

They’d pulled in three mattresses from the other rooms and handed all the cash they had left to the confused looking housekeeper before promising to put everything back in the morning. Ben and Bev curled up on one of the mattresses while Bill and Mike claimed another. Richie sprawled like a starfish across the last one, leaving Eddie to shove his legs out of the way so he could sit at the end of the mattress. All of them neglected the proper bed in the room in favor of being able to be close to one another. 

“So what’s everyone going to do now?” Beverly asked.

“Get the fuck out of Derry,” Mike replied immediately, causing all of them to laugh. “Seriously though, I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m finally gonna travel. Maybe try Europe for a while.”

Bill turned to look at him and made an awkward sort of noise before speaking. “If you uh, need any funds let me know. Or any of us, I’m sure we’d all be glad to help.”

“Bill man, I don’t need any help. I’m kind of loaded,” Mike responded.

“Wait what?” interrupted Richie. “Since when?”

“Guys, I’ve been living above the library. I haven’t paid rent in 20 years. And it’s not like I’ve been able to go anywhere or do anything.”

“Huh, that actually makes a lot of sense,” chimed in Ben, drowning out Mike’s indignant “You thought I was poor??”

“Well I’m going back with Ben,” Beverly announced, and the rest of the Losers cheered even though it had been obvious since they’d all crawled out of the wreckage of Neibolt that the two would be inseparable. 

“I’ve got to get back to Audra. I called to try and explain things to her, but I’m not sure if ‘my friend was stabbed by a psycho who escaped from an asylum’ is really the kind of story you can convey over the phone,” sighed Bill. “And I have to see if I still have a career.”

“Billiam, buddy, if your endings couldn’t tank your career, nothing can,” replied Richie and everyone cracked up again.

The room grew quiet again as the laughter tapered off, until Eddie broke the silence. 

“I, uh, I don’t know where I’m going.”

Richie shot up from where he was laying, knocking his glasses off in the process and squinting at Eddie. “What the fuck do you mean you don’t know where you’re going? Don’t you have like, a wife? Half the doctors in New York are gonna go out of business without your sweet, sweet hypochondriac cash, Eds.”

“I’m not a fucking hypochondriac, asshole. I have childhood trauma that a space clown erased which is like a million times worse than asthma anyway. And Myra and I are getting a divorce.”

“Shit, Eddie, are you okay?” Bev asked, concern filling her voice.

“I always knew your mom would come back to me, Eds, you just don’t know how to treat her like I do,” joked Richie, to a chorus of audible groans and a sharp “beep, beep, Richie” from Bill. 

“I’m fine,” Eddie responded. “We weren’t really doing great. When I called her from the hospital and all she could talk about was how much me getting stabbed and impaled inconvenienced her I kind of knew it was over. Did you guys not think it was weird that I was in the hospital for a week and she never came to visit?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s weird now that you mention it,” said Ben sheepishly. 

“I’ve got pretty much everything settled except where I’m gonna go. Myra knows all my favorite spots in New York and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life trying to avoid her,” said Eddie.

“Come to LA,” blurted out Richie. 

“What?”

“LA. Like where I live? I’ve got some guest bedrooms. And LA is like the capital of gross, healthy shit, you’d love it,” Richie said, grabbing his glasses. As he slid them on he noticed Beverly’s thoughtful, almost concerned, look and added, “What, worried I’m gonna steal all the babes you try and rebound with?”

“Steal all the- I had a wife! You don’t even have any evidence you’ve ever been with a woman. And no, Jenna Aldrich in 10th grade doesn’t fucking count,” snapped Eddie.

“Now Spagheds, that’s no way to talk to your new roomie,” scolded Richie jokingly.

“Fine, whatever, I’ll stay with you in LA if you’ll shut up. But only until I find a place of my own, and I swear to god if your house looks anything like your room used to, I'm leaving and calling the health department to come save you from yourself,” responded Eddie and the other four Losers exchanged meaningful glances. 

Richie didn’t even notice, distracted by the oddly pleasant feeling that he’d won something even though no one else had argued for Eddie to come stay with them.  
“Aww, my hero!” he said as he wrapped an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and smiled, falling back onto the mattress and dragging Eddie down with him.

“I don’t know about you guys, but Ben and I are gonna leave kind of early tomorrow,” Beverly said with a quiet giggle, as she noticed the scowl on Eddie’s face where he lay still trapped by Richie’s arm. 

“Yeah, I’m ready to turn in,” replied Bill, and with that the Losers settled in for the night on their makeshift beds, all reluctant to go back to their own rooms. Beverly wrapped an arm around Ben, Mike and Bill laid head to foot to make room, and Eddie and Richie shoved each other as they both laid in the same direction. None of them were more than a few inches from one another, but Richie’s fingers still itched to move forward and grab a hold of Eddie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's chapter 1! We have a little ways to go before we get to the explicit content, but I promise it's coming. As always, comments and kudos are appreciated <3


	2. Chapter 2

Eddie and Richie’s plane landed at 11:00 pm, which meant they got to dodge the absolute worst of LA traffic and made it to Richie’s house before either one of them nodded off in the Uber. As they pulled in the drive, Eddie took the key from Richie and left him to take care of the luggage and thanking the driver, who at the last minute recognized Richie and asked for an autograph. After an awkward struggle to find a pen, and then to carry Eddie’s ridiculous number of bags, Richie finally made it in the house. Eddie was standing in the kitchen, seemingly inspecting it, and looked up when he heard Richie enter. And damn, wasn’t that a sight? Edward Kaspbrak leaned against one of Richie’s counters looking like he’d always been there. 

“It’s actually really clean in here, I’m impressed,” said Eddie.

“Duh, I know how to keep a house clean, Spaghetti,” replied Richie, dropping the bags in the living room.

“The cleaning service left a receipt on the dining room table, dumbass.”

“Okay fine, I know how to get someone else to keep a house clean. At least I can pack without bringing half of New York with me, seriously what is in here?” Richie asked, kicking Eddie’s bags lightly. 

“Necessities,” Eddie responded with a scowl.

“Okay, okay,” Richie replied, holding his hands in a show of surrender. He lingered in the living room, his fingers fidgeting at his side. “So uh, what now?”

“What do you mean ‘what now?’, it’s your house,” Eddie replied. 

“I don’t know man, I usually just pound a few shots and lay in bed watching reruns until they kick in and I drift off,” Richie answered with a self-conscious shrug.  
“Jesus Rich, that’s not even remotely normal,” Eddie said, his voice sounding tight with concern. Richie smiled despite himself as he heard it, that smug feeling of having won something spreading in his chest again. His attention was pulled back to the conversation as Eddie sighed and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck before saying, “Shit, why is this so weird? We had sleepovers all the time as kids.”

“To be fair, back then you weren’t going through a divorce and I didn’t need to get trashed to fall asleep.” Richie paused, as if considering his previous sentence, before sitting down on the couch and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Dude, our lives suck.”

Richie was tempted to look up as he heard Eddie walk over from the kitchen before hesitantly sitting on the other end of the couch, but he kept his arm over his face as he enjoyed the glow he was feeling. He’d spent his whole career chasing attention, but he’d forgotten just how good it felt when he caught Eddie off guard or wore him down enough to get his. His thoughts drifted for a minute before the sound of a shaky breath prompted Richie to sit up and turn towards where Eddie sat, his head in his hands. 

“Shit, Eds, hey, it’s alright,” Richie blurted, reaching a hand out to rest tentatively on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie crumpled into the touch, falling against Richie’s side. Richie wrapped an arm around Eddie and shifted so that Eddie was laying against his chest. 

“Hey, don’t worry Eds. We killed a space clown, I think we can handle regular mid-life crisis shit,” Richie soothed, running his hand down Eddie’s arm in a petting motion. “Fuck, I promise things aren’t that bad, you know me, I just say shit. You know I haven’t actually had to get drunk to sleep the past few nights? Twenty fucking years of drinking out of the bottle until I passed out and all it takes is one trip back to that nightmare of a town and suddenly I’m sleeping like a baby. Except- well except for that first night you spent in the hospital. I was so goddamned scared I didn’t sleep a wink.”

Eddie’s breath had slowly evened out as he’d listened to Richie rambling and focused on a carefully practiced pattern of inhaling and exhaling, one his body remembered from childhood. “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping the few tears that had collected on his cheeks away.

“Well shucks, Spagheds, you don’t gotta apologize to little ‘ol me,” Richie said, the awful Southern accent he used not quite covering up the fond, vulnerable tone in his voice.

“Shut up and take your damn apology,” Eddie replied, sitting up with a snort and turning to face Richie. “That was- that was the first time I’ve cried since this whole thing started: It, the hospital, Myra.” Eddie paused and placed a hand over one of Richie’s before saying, “Thank you.”

Richie looked down at where their hands joined and stood up with a start. Something about the way his hand had looked in Eddie’s had made his heart race so fast he suddenly felt nauseous. “No problem, man,” he said anxiously before knocking his hand against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m beat, you can take whatever guest room you want. I’m not actually sure how many there are, but at least one should be made up.” 

Eddie frowned slightly at Richie’s sudden movement, then furrowed his brows in confusion. “Wait, you don’t know how many bedrooms your own house has?” he asked.

“I don’t know man, my manager found this place and I just admitted that I spent most of the past two decades fucked up. Plus I’m on tour all the time, gotta please my adoring fans and all that jazz,” Richie said with a shrug. 

“How long have you lived here? You know what, don’t answer that. I’m too tired to have this conversation right now, but you are not off the hook,” Eddie responded with a sigh. He stood and placed a hand on Richie’s arm as he moved past him. “Thank you, Rich, for everything,” he said sincerely. His hand lingered as he looked into Richie’s eyes. 

Richie felt his heart begin to hammer again and he almost pushed Eddie away again as he felt the anxiety rise in his chest, but something in Eddie’s eyes stopped him. God, he was acting like an idiot. Eddie was just trying to lean on a friend and Richie was freaking out on him. It had clearly been too long since he’d hung out with someone if basic friendly gestures were rattling him. 

“Wait, Eds, whaddya say we make this a real sleepover?” Richie asked.

“I was going to do that by going to sleep, Richie,” Eddie responded flatly. 

“No, I mean like a sleepover sleepover. Like when we were kids. We can pick out a movie, maybe pop some popcorn? The couch pulls out into a king, that was literally my only request when it came to this house.”

Eddie looked at Richie contemplatively, just long enough for Richie to start worrying he’d said something wrong and made things weird, before he finally nodded. “Fuck it, my back was gonna hurt after the flight anyway,” he said. “I’m not letting you pick the movie though, you’ll choose something terrible.”

Richie clutched his chest in mock betrayal and cried “Oh ye of little faith!” as he went off in search of blankets and pillows for the couch. 

In the end, Richie did end up picking the movie and it was just as terrible as Eddie had expected. It was supposed to be a horror movie, but it was about giant killer rabbits and Richie cracked jokes all the way through it, beaming every time he made Eddie laugh. At the start of the movie they had lain about as far apart as the sofa bed allowed them to, but they slowly migrated closer as Richie leaned over to tell jokes. They’d ended up practically cuddling after one of the jump scares caught Richie off guard and actually made him reach out for Eddie who simply laughed at Richie’s cowardice.   
“You fought off a demonic clown, but a bunny is what scares you?” Eddie asked teasingly. 

“Man, shut the fuck up. I’m not scared, I was just protecting you. Defend the weak and all that,” Richie replied with a pout. 

“You’re so full of shit,” Eddie said with a snort and wrapped an arm around Richie’s shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” Richie asked, feeling the familiar sensation of his pulse racing as the new position forced him to snuggle up to Eddie. 

“Defending the weak,” Eddie answered in a smug tone. “Now shut up, I’m tryna watch the movie.” 

“I told you I would pick a good movie,” Richie muttered against Eddie’s chest. He felt Eddie grab his glasses and place them on the end table next to the couch which just made his heart start doing backflips in addition to running a mile a minute. It had almost become too much when Eddie settled back down and started idly running his hand through Richie’s hair. His touch comforted Richie who drifted off feeling truly safe for the first time in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eddie: So this is full homo, right?  
> Richie: I'm not homeless  
> Eddie: ????


End file.
